


The Monster's Final Chapter

by AidenFlame



Category: Frankenstein - Mary Shelley
Genre: Blood, Death, Gen, Mild Gore, Murder, life from death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-21 12:57:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2468984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AidenFlame/pseuds/AidenFlame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the death of Dr Frankenstein, his creation still longs for companionship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Monster's Final Chapter

**Author's Note:**

> Written for college about 4 years ago

** Frankenstein; the monster’s final chapter. **

I fled across the ice and after many months, found myself standing in Frankenstein’s laboratory; the very place he had created and destroyed my female companion. Months previous, while she had been in the ground only hours, I had taken the body of Victor’s love and stored it here, preserved. I had also taken possession of the journals he had kept during my own creation, and now he was dead, my work could begin.

I removed Elizabeth’s frozen corpse, and lay it on the bench before me. Her face, even in death, was exquisite. As I gazed upon it, I felt remorse for the poor creature I had so brutally murdered. Her only crime had been to wed my enemy. My eyes travelled downwards to her pale neck, which still bore the mark of my sin. I recalled how delicate it had felt beneath my grotesque hands; how easily I had squeezed the life from her. It had been like crushing a butterfly.  
I gently stroked her lily white hands. They were small and dainty; porcelain china compared to my leathery monstrosities. These hands, along with her head and legs, would be Elizabeth’s contribution to the creation of my own wife. Her neck and arms were severely damaged during my assault on her, so could not be used for my purpose. Her torso would be no use. In order for my creation to survive, I would need to acquire a fresh body, with the blood still warm, and the heart and lungs intact. The thought that I would have to kill another woman did not repulse me, as perhaps it should have done. I set to work immediately, using Frankenstein’s own instruments to disassemble the woman he loved.  
Her partially frozen blood glistened on the steely blade. I repressed the urge to expel the contents of my stomach, and continued to remove her fragile limbs from her slender body. As I removed each part of her, I placed it tenderly in ice, so as to keep it from decaying. I was assembling what was to be my only friend in this cursed half-life of mine; she needed to be perfect, regardless of the cost.  
During the daylight hours, I kept myself hidden away within the walls of the laboratory; deciphering the untidy scrawl of Victor Frankenstein as I pored over his journals, hungry to know more about my ungodly conception, and I resolved not to make the same mistakes and faults as he did. I was creating life from death out of love, and the need for companionship, whereas Frankenstein created me out of madness and a craving for power over life itself. He saw himself as parallel to god. I would never make that mistake.  
By night, I prowled the streets of the town, searching for the perfect female body. I analysed many young women, noticing their beauty and their flaws. I saw numerous women who I at first deemed suitable, but on closer analysis, their flaws became apparent; neck overly wide, arms too short. The smell of death and decay became almost overwhelming, and the floor was slick with the blood of fourteen maidens before I completed my task. I deeply regretted the termination of so many young lives, but I did not allow remorse and pity to deviate me from my vocation.

After several months of searching, I finally came across a young woman who, at first glance appeared completely unsuitable. Her face was not pretty, and her hips far wider than Elizabeth’s slight body, but I was becoming desperate. I pursued the woman for most of the evening, waiting for an opportunity to catch her alone.  
She, of course, tried to fight me off, but with one of my enormous hands covering her face, she could not scream out for help, and her pathetic blows felt like rain drops on my back. I found that her neck was the correct size to adequately support Elizabeth’s head, and her arms were almost perfect.  
The young woman was still alive and conscious as I strapped her to the table. As her oesophagus needed to remain fully functioning and unblemished, strangulation was not an option, and suffocation would damage the lungs, so this too was unsuitable. I contemplated the best way to kill her- one that would not damage any required parts- whist she struggled feebly against her bonds. I did not wish to cause her agony in her death, so I decided to sever the femoral artery; the only pain she would experience would be the initial laceration. She bled profusely for eleven minutes, but by the end of the twelfth minute, she was dead.  
It took me only hours after draining the girl to remove the parts I required and attach them to those from Elizabeth. My beautiful creation opened her pale, yellow eyes for the first time. I had not wanted her first vision to be one of death, so I had carefully removed all traces of my work from the lab.  
I held out my hand, and she took it in her own. We belonged together.


End file.
